


On My Cabin Floor

by fandomcrazychick, tinderwrites



Category: The Pirateverse
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Gay Character, Canon Non-Binary Character, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, M/M, Original Fiction, Other, Pirates, Slow Burn, unintentional misgendering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomcrazychick/pseuds/fandomcrazychick, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinderwrites/pseuds/tinderwrites
Summary: When two rival captains end up stuck in the same port together, emotions are high. However, after one drunken night, things get a little more complicated.
Relationships: Inari Pollari/Chris de la Rosa, Laurent Moreau/Alexa Montez, Leena Gunnarsdottir/Blaise Jones, River Perez/Sebastian Kijek





	1. Alcohol Does Wonders, Doesn't It?

The crew of the Retribution sat crowded around several tables in the tavern. Bottles and mugs by the dozen littered the tables alongside playing cards, coins, and dice. As usual, Sebastian had claimed a seat at the back of the room where he could watch his crew and the other patrons of the bar. His men had kept themselves occupied throughout their extended stay, though most had abandoned their gambling for conversation and drinking. A handful who retained the necessary coin had disappeared that morning in search of the whorehouse. Their collective mood, however, dragged.

Only one remained in high spirits. Braden had spent the afternoon working himself into a pleasant state of semi-consciousness and proceeded to start a round of singing. Thus far he’d gone through two drinking songs and managed to get a few crewmen nearest to him to tap out a beat. Normally Sebastian had no tolerance for such caterwauling, but Braden had a surprisingly sweet voice despite being half deaf from gunning.

“As I went home on a Monday night as drunk as drunk--” Braden struggled for the words for a moment. “--could be! I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be!”

Sebastian suppressed the urge to punch him. Braden loved that goddamn song and sang it no less than once a day. Perhaps Sebastian ought to be grateful this was the first rendition he had heard since they came ashore. He refrained from yelling at the man for the time being. There was no place for petty squabbles when they shared the space with River Perez and his louts.

Movement by the stairs drew Sebastian’s eye. It seemed the long-haired bastard had chosen to return to the taproom. Shame, he’d enjoyed the relative peace and quiet in the other captain’s absence. He turned his attention back to the papers in front of him, matters more important to him than the walking booze sponge at the bar. Reports, days old at this point, sat piled before him all repeating what he already knew: he was running out of time. He leaned forward onto the table to study his map closer.

“Managed to learn to read that yet, Captain?”

Sebastian glanced up and found his first mate claiming the chair nearest him. She was soaked down to the bone. Inari Pollari had joined the crew with him back when their previous captain, Rodriguez, had control over the ship. She had proven a valuable, if unusual friend; a talented judge of character and quick with her fists. Judging by the blood on her tanned leather jacket, she’d run into some wandering hands on her outing. Sebastian rolled the map and tossed it by his growing collection of empty bottles. “What are they saying on the street?”

Inari picked up one of said bottles nearest to her, peeking inside it. “Odds give the storm another few days.” She tipped it back, swallowing a mouthful. “Highs say a week, lows say three days.”

Down the table, Braden managed to start the third verse of his song. “And as I went home…”

“Helvetti,” Sebastian growled. “We’re running out of time.”

“On a…Wednesday night…”

Inari picked up a letter from the top of the stack. “Shouldn’t these guys be stuck in port just like us?”

“As drunk as drunk could be!”

“That’s not our problem,” Sebastian replied.

“I saw a…”

“We needed to use their days in port loading their cargo to catch their ship. With these storms, we’ll leave on the same day. Catching them near shore would take a vitun miracle.”

“I saw a…a pipe upon a horse…”

Sebastian took a paper in his hand and crushed it. “Two vitun months of work and we’re losing the huora to a storm.”

“On Wednesday as I went home as drunk on pipe—”

A growl escaped Sebastian as he grabbed one of the empty bottles in front of him and hurled it down the table at Braden. It narrowly missed the man’s head. “Braden, pick another fucking song!”

The older man shot him a sloppy salute. ”Aye, Captain. A love song, perhaps. Which of you boys knows a lover’s tune?”

Inari tipped back her own bottle again. “We could try sneaking out early. The men won’t like facing the storm, but it might be better than waiting here for the weather to break.”

“They’d never be sober enough to handle it,” Sebastian grumbled. He wanted to move ahead with his plans, but he had no desire to sink his ship. His crew had pickled themselves since coming ashore. He didn’t trust the lot to clean his ship in this storm, let alone sail in it.

"Oi, Kijek! How long's it been since you got laid? Because my mate here wants to follar tus sesos!" A sudden shout came from across the bar, accompanied by raucous laughter. Sebastian’s gaze cut across to the pair of idiots sitting at the bar – Perez and his first mate.

Ugh.

Sebastian ground his teeth, muttering under his breath, “Vittusaatana.” Several members of Sebastian’s crew perked up, a mixture of chuckles and grumbling rippling through the lot. They longed for some action to break up the monotony. A showdown between the captains sounded good as any other distraction. Sebastian, however, was in no mood for moronic bantering across a bar.

Inari snickered, speaking in a low tone to keep others from overhearing. “He hit a little close to the mark, captain? You like ‘em tall, don’t you?”

“Turpa kiinni, Pollari. He’s just a self-important prick,” Sebastian hissed back.

Inari laughed again, eyeing the other captain from across the room. “He has some…viehatys. I’ve seen worse.”

“God rest their souls,” Sebastian quipped, earning him a not so gentle punch to his arm. Perez had some attractive features, Sebastian wouldn’t pretend otherwise, but the arrogant ass could make the simplest conversation feel like drowning in a vat of fleas. Sebastian turned his cold glare to drunk morons sitting at the bar and replied, “Suksi vittuun! I’d sooner suck the pus out of a leper’s sores and swallow.”

“Hyvin luova,” Inari smirked, ignoring Sebastian’s frown. Not one to be left out of the fun, she cupped her hands by her mouth and shouted, “Better find him some putas, pendejo!”

"Your loss, Kijek. After all, I've never had complaints in that area. Maybe you have though..." Perez smirked wickedly, and raised the beer tankard in a mock toast to the other man. "To Sebastian Kijek - rest in peace his sex life. It had a short life."

Laughter erupted from pirates all around the room, from both sides. Things were finally getting interesting after being stuck in eternal boredom for the past few days, and there were few things more interesting to watch than River Perez and Sebastian Kijek getting into it with each other.

Leena — the Retribution's shipwright, and the youngest crew member at only seventeen — scoffed. "In your dreams, Perez." she taunted. "In fact, you probably do dream about just that."

Grunts of agreement sounded all around with a few shipmates nearest Leena raising their mugs in a toast. Sebastian kept his steely glare locked on the other captain. So hunting down merchant scum left little time for sex. People wasted too much of their energy on fucking others to begin with. Sebastian leaned back in his chair and replied, “Not one complaint? Impressive.” The corner of his mouth turned upward. “Not that your hand could complain if it wanted to.”

The snickers that spread across the room emboldened him. He raised one of the nearby bottles of rum to his lips and finished it in a few short gulps. “Or is it your willingness to screw anything with a pulse that makes you so irresistible?” 

Perez’ eyes narrowed. "Please, I do have standards, believe it or not." He scoffed, and downed the last of his beer. "Not my fault women and men can't resist me and my charms." He met Sebastian's gaze, and winked lasciviously. "Like you, for example. I'm sure you've spent many a night, alone in your bed, fantasising about me in various positions..." Perez made a vulgar hand gesture, hammering home the point.

“Haista vittu,” Sebastian muttered under his breath. Inari snickered but kept her comments to herself. Sebastian was nearing the end of his patience. He lacked Perez’s ability to play to a crowd and Perez had no reason to fear him when both remained trapped in port. If Sebastian wanted to win this confrontation, he had to find another way to overpower Perez with words.

Hoots of laughter came from all Morbid Eel crew members. "Cuidadoso, Kijek! Él es enormé...." Perez’ first mate quipped in Spanish, smirking.

"Christ, Perez, have you shagged all your crew?" Leena disparagingly said.

“He thinks with his dick. How else would you expect him to recruit?” Sebastian replied with a devilish smirk that never quite reached his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Perez. I don’t waste my time with self-absorbed peacocks who can’t control their libido.”

“You’d have to be a merchant vessel filled to the brim with wine to get his full attention,” Inari snickered.

Sebastian shifted his glare back to his first mate. “Perse,” he hissed. 

She shrugged his ire off with another grin.

"Oh, I can control my libido. Otherwise, I'd be jumping the bones of your fucking gorgeous first mate." Perez replied, and flashed Inari a grin as he got to his feet. "But Kijek, if you can't control your libido, I'm in Room 37." He snarkily replied, and tossed a couple of coins over to the bar wench, before heading out of the bar-room.

Inari blew Perez an exaggerated kiss in response earning a disdainful look from her captain. “What?” she asked innocently. “I’m only joking, captain. You know I’d never sleep with the competition. I swear it on my isoäidin hauta.”

Sebastian looked unmoved. “You never knew your isoäiti.” He searched around for one of the unemptied bottles nearby. Perez had managed to slink off with the last word, damn the man. Another gone round to the irritating rogue. Sebastian’s hand closed around one of fuller bottles which he took a hearty swig from. He wanted very much to take the bottle and smash it into Perez’s charming little grin. Leave a scar on that fucking mug he was so proud of. 

~~

Night settled over the town as Sebastian made his way back to the tavern, stumbling over to the side entrance. Both crews would still be drinking themselves into oblivion in the taproom and he wanted nothing between himself and humbling Perez. His clothes clung to his body as he stepped through the doorway, water dripping off him into a sizable puddle at his feet. He’d feel worse about the mess if the tavern floor weren’t so filthy. It could use a good scrubbing.

He had intended to cool his head and return to his room for that night, but every gulp of alcohol he took fed the spark of his anger. Perez thought he was so clever as though he did anything more than scavenge whatever ship wandered into his sights. No artistry. No fucking skill an amateur couldn’t pick up in an hour. Yet he had the gall to pretend to be some great thing all because he got laid more than a Spanish whore. 

Sebastian tipped back his bottle again and drained it. He would show Perez and prove his own superiority both as a clever word player and a lover. He would fuck him so hard--wait. Not literally. With words. Yes, English and Spanish words.

He mounted the back stairs up the rooms, nearly tripping near the top. The bottle dropped from his hand and rolled down the stairs, the clanking noise followed by cursing. His final drink appeared to have pushed him just past his limits. No matter. Dull wits would only delay his inevitable victory.

Once he arrived at the door inscribed with a 37, he pounded on it. “We’re not done here, Perez,” he growled, “Come out and finish this, hijo de puta. I don’t take insults from idiootti.”

The door swung open after a moment, forcing Sebastian to lean back when Perez came into view. Fucking bastard had his bare chest placed directly in Sebastian’s line of sight. If Perez thought flaunting some skin would help him, he was a fucking lunatic. It took more than sculpted abs and sunkissed skin to rile Sebastian Kijek. 

"Look, I'm in no mood right now. Earlier was whatever, because I was bored, but now I'm in no mood to deal with a drunken bestia like you. Metase el dedo." The Costa Rican made to close the door again…

Only for Sebastian to wedge his foot in the doorway as he glowered at Perez. “Worried about what will happen without your crew to back you up?” he growled.

To be entirely honest, Sebastian had no plan of attack. Reason had abandoned him somewhere near the pier while he stood overlooking his docked ship. Instinct drove him to seek out his enemy to alleviate his pent-up frustrations. His attempt to take revenge on the storm had failed so he turned to the next best alternative.

“I don’t whore myself out,” he snarled as he leaned in close to Perez. “But when I do take someone to bed, there are no complaints. I leave them begging for more.” A smirk crossed his lips. “But I don’t take just anyone. My lovers need to prove they’re worth my time, not some molopaa with a pretty face.” He stepped back. “Which rules you out, kyrpa.”

"I seek out my lovers for other reasons than appearances, which is actually good for you, because there's nothing but air between those ears of yours." Perez snapped back, his eyes flashing. "And I find it hard to believe that you ever get laid, since you've got such a huge stick up your ass that there must not be any room for anyone else up there."

“Did I hit a nerve?” His mismatched eyes grew darker. “Say what you want, but we both know my record proves you wrong. I’ve taken down vessels right beneath the noses of naval forces, crippled merchant lords with a single, well-timed raid, and spread terror among any with wealth who sail. No other ship in these vitun waters runs efficiently as mine.” 

He put his hand on the doorway to steady himself. “In bed? I take control, but I can be very versatile for a capable partner.” His eyes remained locked on Perez’s face. “What about you, kyrpa? You brag about your prowess and the people who want you. In my experience, the cocks who crow loudest are the least skilled. They use words to make up for piss poor performance.”

The other captain’s eyes darkened and he reached up. His hand fisted in the front of Sebastian’s shirt, and pulled him forcefully into the room, slamming the door shut after him. He pushed the shorter man against the wall next to the door, and moved closer so he was but a hair's breadth from him.

"You really think I'm piss poor in bed? You've got no idea what the fuck you're talking about." River breathed, leaning in more until his hot breath brushed over Kijek's cheek. "But if you're interested..."

With that, he crashed his lips onto the other man's, instantly taking dominance.  
Sebastian’s eyes grew wide. Holy fuck, Perez was kissing him. His head swam as his heartbeat skyrocketed, momentarily overwhelmed by the domineering move. Perez was kissing him and he was fucking good at it. Sebastian responded with vigor, deepening the kiss as he explored the other man’s mouth.

His hands came up and roamed over every inch of Perez’s chest, taking in his firm muscles and pebbled nipples. Something between a moan and growl rumbled in Sebastian’s chest. Perez had a body like polished steel. He pulled away to give them both a chance to breathe, tugging on Perez’s lower lip. And lips like downy pillows. Fuck, he had to have more. He reached up and tangled his fingers in Perez’s hair as he surged forward to retake his mouth.

One thigh came up and slid between Sebastian’s legs until it was pressing firmly against that painfully throbbing bulge in his trousers, causing him to inhale sharply. How long had he wanted to do this?

His hands dropped away from Perez’s hair to help him remove his clothing. Sebastian shrugged off his coat which landed with a heavy thud behind him, breaking the kiss again as Perez tugged his shirt off. The sudden exposure chilled his damp skin, and he lunged forward to lessen the distance between them. His lips found Perez’s immediately as he sought to deepen the kiss. Fuck, Perez knew how to use his tongue. Sebastian pulled at the waistline of the other man’s pants, wanting to rid them both of their final pieces of clothing.

Suddenly the taller captain pulled them both over to the bed, where they fell onto it, still groping each other and ridding each other of their clothes. Their lips were disconnected for a brief moment but then they were together again, and it was hot and sexy and holy shit he just wanted to touch him all over.

Perez pulled back, and started trailing his lips down Sebastian’s neck, over his collarbone and down his chest, all while his hands moved on the other pirate's pants, opening them and yanking them downwards...


	2. Goodbye, Havana

River slowly awoke to the sounds of seagulls cawing outside, the inn's maid staff moving around outside the room, and breathing beside them? They slowly turned his head to the side, and jerked when they saw Kijek sleeping beside him. Shit. That had actually happened, and hadn't been some wet dream induced by a lack of real sex.

Without a sound, they slipped out of the bed, and retrieved their pants from the ground, yanking them on. As they fastened them, they walked to the window, and peered out. A grin spread across River’s face - finally the storm had ended. It was wet, and likely freezing, but it was clear skies. They could sail again. Fucking finally. River let out a relieved breath as they tugged their shirt on over their head, followed by their long leather coat.

River bent down to gather their things, stuffing them in their bag. Soon they were ready to go, and were almost out the door before they paused, and turned back to look at Kijek's naked sleeping form on the bed. Various emotions twisted River’s innards, none of which he could put a name to. What the hell had last night been? Did it mean anything? Was it just a drunken hook-up after a dry spell?

With a sigh, they poured out a glass of water from the jug at the side, and left it on the bedside table. Kijek would likely be hungover when he eventually awoke, and it was the least River could do. After all, last night had been all kinds of incredible, so they felt the need to thank him for that at least. With that, they left to go and rouse the rest of the crew.

It was only down in the taproom that they finally found Chris – or rather, what was left of the slumped corpse in the corner. "Despierta, Christophe." They ordered as they strode closer and shook their first mate’s shoulder. "We set sail in fifteen, no more. Gather the others, and make sure you don't leave anything behind."

The Spaniard raised his head sleepily. and peered at River. A lazy grin spread across his face. "Hey....you got laid last night. Ni-ice." He let out a wolf-whistle, and sat up, stretching his arms out above his head. "Did you finally visit the whorehouse?"

“None of your business.” River shook their head, a hint of a smile on their lips as hazy memories from last night came back. The way Kijek had fallen underneath them, or the way their bodies had moved so well together, so surprisingly in sync with each other….it had been almost amazing.

"I checked out the ship last night before I went to bed, and everything seemed in perfect working order. We should be ready to get right out onto the water as soon as everyone's on board. Looks like the Morbid Eel ones are headed out too - I saw Perez getting everyone up about five minutes ago. He's over there.”

“They’ll be moving as slow as us. No one left here sober yesterday.”

River’s ears pricked up at the voices, and they glanced over their shoulder at the trio gathered at the far end of the room. The irritating little blonde teenager, Kijek’s first mate, and the man himself. Their stomach did a weird little flip in their abdomen at the sight of him, but they turned back to Chris without pausing to dwell on those feelings any longer. It had been a drunken fling fuelled by too much rum, it was a mistake, and it wouldn’t happen again. Never mind that River had had thoughts before of what it would have been like to sleep with the attractive Finnish man…

No. He was a prick, and an insufferable one at that. River would be glad to see the back of him after this.

“Come on, get up, and get everyone gathered. I want to be out of here within the hour.” They ordered, pulling their bag up over their shoulder. “I’ll check the taverns on my way back down to the ship.”

“Aye, captain.” Chris sleepily saluted them, eyes already drooping again.

“Chris!” River poked him again.

His arm slipped off the table, jerking him awake again. “I’m good! I’m good, don’t worry.” He yawned and pushed himself to his feet with some reluctance.

“You’re a mess.” They shook their head and headed across to the door. With each step they took, more of the other conversation drifted over to their ears.

“Do another pass around the rooms. Tell anyone lagging behind we leave within the next hour with or without them.”

“But I wanted to go bother the idiots at the bar.”

“That includes you. Check the rooms and the whorehouse. Oriel and Jasso disappeared in that direction yesterday. I’d rather not leave without the helmsmen. Leena, get back to the ship and tell the crew to start preparing. I’ll be down to inspect things soon.”

“Aye, Captain!” The kid’s chirpy salute made River roll their eyes.

“Aye, Captain No Fun.” Pollari’s response made them snicker though, as they pushed open the door and headed out into the morning air. Sober Sebastian Kijek might be a total stick in the mud, but the drunk version of him was so much more fun. 

~~

An hour later, they were out on the water, and River finally felt at peace. Staying static for an extended period of time, in any way, didn't sit well with the genderqueer pirate captain, and being able to be out on the open seas and oceans, they felt happy again.

They stood at the helm, forearms resting on the railing as they gazed out over the open water. The feeling of the wind blowing through their long braids felt incredibly soothing, as did the light spray of salty water with every new wave. The peace gave them the space to ponder over the events of last night. As it turned out, Sebastian Kijek was actually good at something. Really good, actually... A frisson of desire flashed through River's abdomen at the memory. They'd been at it several times before finally crashing into sleep, and River inhaled as they remembered going down on the other man. God, he had a really nice-

“Buenos días, Captain.”

River turned around at the greeting, and grinned broadly. Said greeting belonged to the resident surgeon on the Morbid Eel, Margaretta Toset. While she’d never received formal training, the older woman had obtained her skills from her time acting as an assistant to her husband and refined them working on the ship in the years following his death. She often chose to remain on the ship in port, stating that she preferred the relative peace and quiet to the packed taverns the crew tended to frequent, and River was constantly grateful for her and everything she did. She was certainly always kept busy with the crew’s various ailments, especially after an extended stay in port. Hell, she'd fixed them up more times than they could count, and she took care of them when they had a bad day and couldn’t bring themself to get out of bed.

“Good to see you back in one piece with no need for stitching. Least not externally.” Margaretta’s eyes ran up and down their frame in a quick assessment. “What’s got you gawking at the waves, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

River smiled a little. "Just thinking, Margaretta, don't worry. I always think better when we're out here, you know that." As they spoke, they took a ribbon out of their pocket, and deftly tied their braids back into a ponytail at the nape of their neck. "Also, I may have experienced a serious lapse in judgement last night, that I'm sort of regretting now but not really? If that makes sense?"

Margaretta chuckled. “You and half the pirates on shore last night. That’s what happens when you’re trapped in port for a few days. You get restless and do foolish things.”

They laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned if that’s not true. God only knows Chris and the boys have done enough foolish things in port.” 

She giggled, and leaned against the railing beside them. “Ai, it reminds me of when I first met my Alberto, God rest his soul, one late night in a cantina. I’d run there to escape my betrothed; absolute pig of a man. Fancied himself a true life Don Juan.” She spat as though the memory alone soured the words in her mouth. “But my Alberto, he knew how to steal your breath away with a glance. We danced for hours until he led me away and made love to me until the sunrise. We eloped the next morning, a day before my wedding to that pig.” She returned her gaze to River. “The week after when I went from his lover to his wife, I began to doubt my choice. So many challenges we never expected, not to mention the trouble of finding him work.” She shook her head. “But we managed well enough. Those rash choices you make can work in your favour, sometimes in ways you’d never expect.”

“Si…” River’s expression sobered some as their thoughts returned to their own foolish act. "Yeah, well this one is a mistake I'll never make again. It was an error in judgement, fuelled by cabin fever." They shook their head and looked out at the sea again. "I've left that behind in Havana, and thank fuck for that, because we have work to do."

Why were they even still thinking about this? It had been one night, one admittedly amazing night, and a night that they had to put as far behind them as Havana was behind the ship now. Kijek was far away, and they doubted he was thinking about them as much as they were thinking about him. Prick. 

With a sigh, they pushed off from the railing, and turned. "We're headed for San Lucas, and then Europe. I know of several lords in San Lucas that could stand to be deprived of some filthy gold." A smirk played on River’s lips. "And then we sail for Northern Europe and Scandinavia. A fresh target set."

It was time to get to work.

Margaretta slid a pipe from the small pouch she carried at her waist. “Northern Europe? We’re in for a change of scenery then. About time we go see something other than islands.” She held it between her teeth and lit the tobacco inside with a sticker. She took a quick puff and sighed. “Work for you lot is work for me.”

She pushed herself off the railing. “Best complete my rounds then. Won’t do to have the crew falling over sick when time comes for a raid.” The Spanish woman took a moment to fix her black hair which she’d tied in a bun. “Do you know where Christophe’s gotten to? He and Laurent are the only two I’ve yet to find.”

"Try the cabins. Chris was pretty plastered last night, so he's likely sleeping off his hangover right now." River replied, an amused smile crossing their face at the mention of their hopeless first mate, and cast their mind back to when they last saw the timid French chef. "Laurent on the other hand, he's probably in the kitchens trying to make something for everyone now that we're back on board."

They shrugged, and headed back towards the captain's quarters. A wash would do them a world of good – wash away the grime of the port – and maybe some food. Their stomach grumbled almost on cue, as if agreeing with their thoughts.

~~~  
Not so far behind the Morbid Eel, another ship set sail. Men scurried around preparing the sails and securing the deck under the watchful eye of the first mate. Things were back to normal and most appreciated getting to leave the port for new shores with the exception of the skinny shipwright hanging from the rigging, eyeing the closed door to the captain’s quarters. 

He’d been acting damn strange today, and she was determined to figure out what had his panties in a twist.

She climbed down the rigging, and jumped the last few feet down before landing neatly on the balls of her feet on the deck, narrowly missing Oriel as he passed by. Humming to herself, she trotted across the deck and up towards the captain’s cabin. As she approached, she felt a pang of jealousy. The captain always had the biggest cabin, whereas she had the tiniest storeroom as a cabin. One day though, she’d have the big cabin, and everyone who had ever doubted her, could suck her metaphorical dick.  
Leena approached the door, and lifted a hand to knock-

“Enter.” 

Damn, how did he always do that? It was Oriel-levels of spooky. Leena shook her head and pushed the door open. Her eyes fell on the captain at his desk, eyes cast downwards at the charts in front of him. That was a usual sight – the man was a workaholic, even Leena knew that – but the smirk on his face was a little odder. 

She wandered closer, eyes studying the older man. Something had happened since Havana, and she was overcome with the curiosity to know what that thing was.  
"Hey, Cap'n? If you don't mind me asking, what's got your balls in a vice?" She asked curiously. "You've been in a weird mood since we left Havana."

And there goes the smile, she thought to herself wryly as the captain’s usual frown returned to his face. Back to normal.

“The only thing that’s weird, Leena, is you wasting your time bothering me when you could be making yourself useful on deck.” He shortly said, turning his attention back to the charts in front of him.

The teenager rolled her eyes, and perched on the edge of the desk, raising an eyebrow at him. "Honestly, whatever you tell me, I won't judge, and I also won't tell a soul-“

“Leena.” 

She had to restrain herself from sighing at the finality in his voice. “ "Alright..." Leena dubiously said, and slid off the desk again. "Just...if you want someone to talk to, about anything at all, I'm just below deck, and there's nothing you could tell me that I haven't already done myself." She shrugged, and headed out again, just as Inari entered the room. “Be careful, he’s in a mood.” She quipped to the pretty first mate, as she left. Finnish conversation drifted back to her, although she couldn’t pick out more than a few words.

Something was up, and she wanted to find out what that was.


	3. Not You, Again!

The crew of the Retribution dispersed as they completed the final business of docking. Most were off in search of the usual distractions coastal cities offered. Sebastian stood upon the main deck with a handful of stragglers including Inari, Jasso, and Leena. He glanced toward the heart of the city, contemplating his plans for the day, none of which involved leisure. Exactly the sort of stay he preferred, a productive one.

Jasso breathed in the smell of the docks and exhaled. “Mi hermosa Alicante. How I’ve missed your shores that glitter like a hoard of jewels, your delicious foods known to bring grown men to tears, your many, many beautiful women…”

“Since when did you take up poetry, Jass?” Inari asked with a smirk. “Wood doesn’t sparkle, idiootti.”

Jasso frowned. “Fuck off, Pollari. If I want to try my hand at poetry, I’m allowed to do as I please. You’ve got to have many talents to suit the needs of a woman or you risk losing her interest before the wine can be poured.”

“If you’re relying on that particular skill, you’ll want to pick up a few more before you hit the taverns tonight.”

“And what would you know about wooing someone?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the bickering pair. “Whatever you do, be back by dawn tomorrow. We’re staying only long enough to fence the goods. If I have to track anyone down in the morning, you’ll spend the next month wishing you had spent the night on the ship.”

Jasso gulped. “Aye aye, captain.”

A sharp whistle from the crow’s nest broke off the conversation. “Oi, Captain!” The cry came from Corson, one of the losers in the pool tasked to remain with the ship during their stay. He took hold of the rigging and slid down to the deck below.

The smirk on his face told Sebastian he wouldn’t like this news. “What is it?”

“You’ll never guess who just sailed into port.”

Oh fuck no.

“Who?”

Not two ports in a row.

“The Morbid Eel! Looks like Perez followed us here.”

“Voi vittujen kevät ja kyrpien takatalri,” Sebastian spat. “Vittu soikoon.”

Jasso frowned and turned to Inari. “What did he say?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Inari said.

Sebastian sighed forcefully. He’d only just managed to evict the flamboyant pirate captain from his mind and refocus himself on more important matters. Seeing him again would only piss him off. He had fucking work to do and no time for fucking with Perez. “Just avoid the mulk--”

"Trouble approaching..." Leena announced in a sing-song voice, as she peered over the side of the ship with a wicked smile spreading across her face. "He looks pissed. Well, as much as a man in eyeliner and a dress can look pissed off."

“Voi vittu,” Sebastian hissed as he looked to see the figure coming down the docks. That son of a bitch was seeking him out. For what purpose Sebastian couldn’t guess and didn’t care enough to know. He briefly considered walking away, but no, running would only give Perez some bullshit idea that he’d intimidated Sebastian. He wouldn’t allow that when Perez was dressed as he was. A man could wear whatever the fuck he wanted to so far as Sebastian was concerned, but one in a skirt had to be the least threatening sight on these docks. What was worse, Perez almost made it look...appealing.

Best not to look into that particular thought.

A smile played at the corner of Jasso’s mouth as he elbowed Inari. “Five gold says the captain skewers him.”

“I’ll take that. Nothing like five gold to line my pockets for our stay.”

Sebastian turned to face the angered Costa Rican man, his feet planted and his arms crossed. “What do you want, Perez?” he snapped when he came into earshot.

Perez came to a stop at the bottom of the boarding ramp, skirts swishing around his ankles, and glared back at Sebastian. "I want you to stop stalking me - it's kind of pathetic, and I have better things to think about than your sorry ass." They snapped.

Leena snickered. "What? Like whether or not your legs look good in that dress? Dude, seriously? Grow some balls and put on a pair of pants."

Fuck, Sebastian didn’t need to think about Perez’s legs. Besides, he was in no position to talk about fashion. He wore the same loose linen shirts and trousers every day along with his leather jacket. The only difference today was that his jacket remained on the ship while his shirt had been unbuttoned halfway to deal with the fucking topical heat.

"Why? You jealous you couldn't pull it off as well as I can?" Perez shot back, and took a low, mocking bow before redirecting his attention back to Kijek. "No tengo el chichi para farolillo - vete a freír espárragos!" He spat out in his native Spanish, before turning and walking back up the dock.

“Huh?” Leena raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Jasso. “Translation?”

“En Ingles? Go fuck yourself,” Jasso translated before he shouted after the other pirate, “Ai, cabron, watch your language. There’s a lady present.”

Inari raised an eyebrow at the Spaniard. “What about Leena?”

Jasso met her eyes. “What about Leena?”

“Kulli,” Inari snickered as she smacked Jasso on the back of the head. She turned to Sebastian when the Spaniard fled down the gangplank. “Wasn’t that sweet? Perez was thinking of your ass.”

“Turpa kiinni,” Sebastian grumbled as he started down to the dock. “We’re here for two days. Just ignore the bastard and his crew.”

Inari raised her hand and waved Sebastian off. “Can do, Captain.”

Sebastian raised a hand in reply but never turned around. He had already begun to exorcise all thoughts of River Perez from his mind, so that he could focus on his goal in port. After that disaster in the Americas, he needed to pull a few strings to make up for his losses or risk the last year’s worth of work losing all its value.

“Mierda,” Jasso whistled, “The captain’s going to be in a bad mood after this.”

“Not if his business in the city pans out. Just keep clear of Perez while you’re off sleeping with everything that moves,” Inari teased.

“Fuck off, Pollari.”

~~

The day wore on as Sebastian went about his business. A conversation here, some information buying there, and far too many thoughts to kill to count. That run-in with Perez had his thoughts scattered. Stupid bastard with his fucking dresses and his shitty timing. He had caused Sebastian enough grief in Havana. Couldn’t he have stayed in the Americas far away from him? Sebastian needed a new lead, not thoughts about those stupid lushious lips or his long fingers wringing out the bed clothes or that thick co--

“Señor Kijek?”

He blinked as the woman sitting across from him stared at him with obvious concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “My apologies. Continue.”

The setting sun stained the skies violet as night approached. He sat in an outdoor café at a corner table with a local woman. To most onlookers the pair appeared to be a pair of friends enjoying a late supper, but that was only to provide her plausible deniability if anyone witnessed them talking.

The woman, Camila, poured more coffee into his cup. “Perhaps café would help?”

Sebastian took a sip. “Thank you. It’s been a long day. Now you were saying?”

“The clerk beat my poor boy with a belt when he made a mistake translating their manifest. Nearly took one of his eyes out,” Camilla said again, her lips thinning as she frowned.

Her son worked for Emmanuel Torres, one of the business partners of Laukkanen. Sebastian shifted to lean forward on the table. “Your boy ought to learn to fight back. Do you have a copy of it?”

“He never would,” Camila sighed as she slid a crumpled ball of paper into his hand. “He’s gentle as a lamb and such a good boy. He knows his money keeps us both fed and clothed.”

Sebastian reached down to his belt and removed a small pouch, which he passed to her beneath the table.

Her eyes widened when she felt it. “Heavier than usual.”

He nodded. “Tell him to find a new job.” He knew others that worked for Torres and this wasn’t the first time Camilla’s son had been abused. She deserved some peace of mind.

With the money and information exchanged, she stood up. A grateful smile covered her face as she bent to place a kiss upon his forehead. “Gracias, caballero amable.” She gave a little wave before walking away and disappearing down a side street.

Sebastian pulled out the paper and flattened it on the table, looking over the items. It looked to be another shipful of wines and silks, Torres’s primary business ventures. He frowned to himself as he drank his coffee. Laukkanen had been on the outs with Torres since their last voyage to India failed. Would it be worth chasing this ship?

He got to his feet and headed out of the café. The sights and sounds of the city blended into the background as he walked. He had wanted something more substantial like that tip in Havana. They might have gotten their hands on Laukkanen’s son in addition to a wealth of direct information about the man and his plan if not for that fucking storm that trapped them for a fucking week’s worth of drinking and gambling and fucking--

Fuck.

Sebastian took a turn down an alleyway. He swore he remembered following it to the docks earlier in the day, but he began to suspect he’d imagined that. Several turns led him into what appeared to be a neighborhood. Fuck. He wanted to get back to the ship and get some fucking sleep if he could manage it, but clearly he hadn’t failed enough for one day. “Fucking Spanish cities and their fucking maze streets,” Sebastian muttered in Finnish under his breath.

Nothing improved when he turned the next corner. He came out onto a wider street only to find he was no longer alone. The silhouette of a couple stood in a doorway a few doors down the way caressing in the fading sunlight. And naturally he recognized the ungodly tall silhouette. Sebastian came to a stop and hissed, “Voi vittu.”

“…at least you always have an ally here in Alicante for when you return."

"You're more than that, Nic, and you know it.” Perez reached out and pulled the man into a kiss, sending nausea sweeping through Sebastian’s body. If there was a higher power out there, he suspected he’d done it some slight and received an eternity of cursed luck. Why else would he run into the goddamn Costa Rican feeling up locals while all he wanted was to find his ship? Fuck, was he staring? He had to turn around before Perez--

\--noticed him. Fuck. Perez said something to the man in the doorway before stalking over to where Sebastian stood. Fucking fuck. "Haven't you got anything better to do with your time than spying on something which has nothing to do with you?" Perez asked with his arms folded across his chest.

Sebastian glared and shot back, “Don’t flatter yourself, kyrpa. I’m not here to watch you go out whoring. I wasn’t looking for you. Now fuck off.” He turned away from Perez, thinking about stopping by a tavern for a--

A sharp yank on his sleeve stopped him, and he turned to be met with Perez’ angry gaze.

"Don't you dare talk about things in which you have no idea." The Costa Rican snapped. “Just because I've got someone I care about, and you're obviously jealous, don't run your mouth. You may have fucked me once, puto, but if you think that gives you some claim over me, you're in for a rude awakening.”

"Osito? Is everything okay?"

The fucking nerve of this piece of shit. Perez thought he could make assumptions like that all because they’d slept together once?!

"Nicolás, it's fine." Perez turned to the other man, an unusually soft expression on his face. "Go on inside, querido. There's nothing to worry about." He pushed him back towards the house.

“Smell shit you walrus!” Sebastian snarled in Finnish at Perez. “I don’t give a fuck about you or who you fuck. You don’t—!”

He cut himself off when he remembered Perez couldn’t speak his native tongue. Motherfucking bastard. Sebastian could be on his ship sleeping or in a tavern drinking or doing any other goddamned thing in this port, yet here he stood wasting his time.

His breath hissed out between his teeth. “I don’t care who you’re fucking, you egotistically bastard, or where or when or how. Havana only happened because I was drunk off my ass and bored. I’m not following you. I’m not jealous of you or anyone else. I don’t give a fuck!” He pushed them back. “Go whore yourself out however you fucking like. Just stay out of my way!”

He spun away and walked back down the alley, lengthening his stride to put distance between himself and the other captain.

Perez snarled behind him, "Come back here, you Finnish bastard!" Two hands grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the alleyway wall.

Sebastian grunted on impact. “Fuck off!”

"You sought me out that night, you're the one who kissed me back." Perez snapped, his accent thickening in the heat of the moment. "And you're the one who keeps walking into my business. You could have walked on and ignored what I was doing there, but you had to stop and make a prick of yourself. You're such a...a..." He faltered, seemingly unable to find words for whatever exactly Sebastian was.

His heart tripped up. Oh fuck. “Having trouble with your words, kyrpa?” He tried to make it sound like a taunt, but it was difficult to focus with their mouth so close to him. Fuck, Perez had the prettiest lips...

Sebastian took a step forward. “You’re the one who can’t keep your hands off me,” he rasped. “Every time we meet you find an excuse to come over.”

If Perez took one step back, he would be flush against the alley wall, and if he stepped forward, it would be Sebastian against the wall.

“You just vex me so fucking much." Perez breathed out, his eyes locked with Sebastian’s. “Fuck, you have really pretty eyes.”

Sebastian needed to walk away. They had done this once and it had taken him a fucking month to get over it. Nothing good could come from being here with them so close to their sun-kissed skin and their haughty eyes and those bee-stung lips...

He fisted the front of the dress Perez wore. “You talk too much, kyrpa.” He shoved him against the wall and crashed their lips together. Fuck, yes. Sebastian remembered why it had taken him a month to forget their hazy encounter. His free hand came up and tangled itself in Perez’s hair to deepen the kiss, a moan escaping his throat. He tasted so good. A hint of wine and that indescribable flavour that could only be labeled as River Perez. He had no right to kiss so good.

An answering groan emanated from his throat followed by a string of barely coherent Spanish expletives. He returned the kiss with vigor, his hands running down Sebastian’s back until they curved over his ass. Sebastian inhaled sharply. Fuck, he wanted Perez to keep going.

Everything about Havana felt like a hazy dream. This was that dream made reality.

He pushed his leg forward until both of them straddled each other’s thigh. The friction almost made him shiver. He needed more. More of that touch and body and everything. Only when Perez broke away for air did Sebastian remember to breathe.

"Mierda, Kijek....you don't pussyfoot around, do you?"

Sebastian smirked. “Try to keep up.”

He switched his target and attacked Perez’s neck with open mouth kisses, mercilessly sucking on the sensitive skin. The sounds Perez made were so filthy and yet delicate. Who the fuck could do that other than him? Sebastian took his time provoking little reactions and mapping out the area. Fuck, Perez even smelled good. An intoxicating combination of the sea air and some kind of spice that Sebastian couldn’t place; a far cry from most pirates he knew. He nibbled on the juncture of his neck, already so far gone from reality.

Perez’s neck arched back, his head rolling against the rough brick wall. "Quiero que me des duro hoy..." He huskily said, in between moans. "Ayy..."

Suddenly, the other pirate pushed Sebastian back against the other wall and slid down onto his knees in front of him. "Wanna taste you..." Perez uttered, as his long fingers worked to undo the front of Sebastian’s trousers.

Only then did Sebastian remember where they were. “Wait, we can’t--vittu!”

Perez licked the head of his cock as his erection sprang free, cleaning away the precome. The sudden wet heat made him groan. How many times had he woken up dreaming of this mouth? Perez tugged his hips off the wall for better access, nudging one of his knees forward so that Perez’s shoulder could provide support.

Fuck, they were making a scene, but it was so good. Perez cupped his balls, kneading gently as he kissed around the base of his cock. “What are you waiting for?” Sebastian glared down at him or tried to. It was difficult to look annoyed when he only felt wanton desire.

The attempt amused Perez. “Feeling a little desperate?” He grinned up at Sebastian before returning his attention to mouthing back down his shaft. Sebastian bit his lower lip. This was a terrible idea for so many reasons, but fuck if he had any way of stopping it now. His body needed Perez to keep going. If he had to walk away now, he’d never get his rival out of his head. Even now as Perez ran his tongue along the underside of his cock, Sebastian relived those memories of Havana. How the fuck had this bastard managed to get so far under his skin after one night?

The final flick of his tongue made Sebastain groan. He chanced a glance down at Perez as his fingers wrapped around his shaft to steady his cock. Perez met his eyes and smirked before parting those plush lips and engulfing the head of his cock.

Sebatian muffled himself with the sleeve of his shirt. “Vittusaatana,” he moaned as his eyes slipped closed. Perez sucked as he began to bob his head, finally giving Sebastain the direct stimulation he craved. He grabbed a fist full of Perez’s signature braids, his grip firm but measured. Causing pain was not his intention; he needed something to ground him.

In seconds, Perez had set a breakneck pace and Sebastian could kiss him for it. After an entire month of getting off alone, he needed the immediate satisfaction. It was fucking heaven. The way Perez caressed his cock with his tongue as he worked more of it into his mouth drove Sebastian crazy. He needed to come. They needed to finish before any of the sounds escaping from his mouth reached the ears of locals. Oh fuck, that threat should not be making the moment better. The head of his cock bumped against something and he quickly realised it was the back of the other man’s throat. “Perez,” he gasped, “I’m...vittu...gonna--paska!--come!”

His orgasm spilled over as Perez continued to suck and swallow until he had wrung every bit of come from Sebastian. He released his hold on the other man and slumped against the wall, bathing in the afterglow. “That was so fucking good,” he panted in Finnish as he tried to piece his mind back together.

Perez pulled off of his spent cock and straightened his clothing, brushing the dust off of the hem of his dress.

It prompted Sebastian to get his dick back in his trousers and tie them once more. He glanced at the other man when he stood up. “Fuck, Perez. What are you made out of?” Joking aside, the situation they had found themselves in became uncomfortably obvious as Sebastain came back down from his high. He looked at Perez in the approaching darkness. “So what happens now?”

"Well, I think that since you've seen me naked, you can at least call me River." He offered a small smile. "Listen, let me buy drinks, and we can talk about...whatever the fuck this is. Okay? I know a place not too far from here where we won't be seen by anyone."

“Drinks would be good,” Sebastian agreed. His own thought had been to go their separate ways again and say nothing. Considering how poorly that plan had gone today, Perez’s plan sounded more realistic. Or River’s plan.

Fuck. He was on a first name basis with River Perez.

Sebastian started after River, keeping some distance between the two of them while allowing him to lead the way. The alcohol would ease some of his confusion, though it would not clear it up. He hadn’t come across a situation like this before. His other lovers, the few there were, he parted with the following morning without more than a word. Then again none of those people had followed him to the next port. Or managed to keep him thinking about them for over a month. He suppressed a sigh. If he ever found an end to this bullshit, he was never going to get drunk again.


End file.
